Dawn's First Light

"Fine," Bryce grunted. He needed to adjust his swollen sac in the tight confines of his loincloth and shifted his weight in an attempt to find a covert way to do so. He did not adjust in front of women. Patrick's chuckle echoed down the hallway as he went to the gym to join the brothers.

Inwardly Bryce groaned in dismay and turned his attention away from his throbbing balls and back to Kayla. "Please don't make this any harder on Keene than it needs to be. Do your best to control yourself when you see him. No tears, please. He doesn't need to see them. Be brave for him. And don't try to talk him out of this."

The brothers had pinpointed Keene's biggest foe. He could handle himself in the ring. Today would challenge Keene both physically and mentally. One tear, one word, might shift the balance. Doubt and mistrust were Keene's worst adversaries and he didn't need a hysterical, crying female to add to his confusion or give the enemy any foothold.

"A crying jag, who me?" Kayla retorted, dabbing at her damp eyes. She winced at the way Bryce shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. She hadn't meant to hurt him. When he grabbed her, he'd triggered something deep inside of her and she'd fought back out of instinct. "I'm really sorry about your... um, about kicking you there." Her eyes went to his groin and glanced away in shame.

"I deserved it. I shouldn't have grabbed you like that. It was wrong of me. I'm the one who is sorry. You just reacted. Anybody would have done the same thing. It's just next time, could you give me a little warning before you go for the groin? Or should I stay on the safe side and wear an athletic cup around you?"

"You want me to kiss it and make it better?" Kayla deflected the only way she knew how, with hard-edged sarcasm. She doubted Bryce had the capacity to hold a grudge for long. There was no error so large it would never be forgiven. With his friendly, shy, boyish smile so infectious in its joy, he'd already hinted that he'd forgiven the incident entirely. His pride was more wounded than his boys.

"Would you?" Bryce teased, chuckling lightly as Kayla elbowed him playfully in the ribs and rolled her eyes. The sudden, painful rise in his groin had nothing to do with his injury and everything to do with the thought of her pink lips wrapped around his cock. With her arm tucked loosely around the bend of his elbow, he led her through the hallway to the Shaman's room. For a moment she conceded and walked beside him. He let go as she twisted out from under his arm and stepped a few paces to the side, out of reach, silently walking beside him with her head held up high, haughty and indignant, pretending to ignore him.

They weren't so different, not really, Bryce mussed. Kayla was just as lost as he was. Fumbling through an unknown world and operating under rules she didn't completely understand in the hopes that she would figure it out as she went along. She was a kaleidoscope of contradictions. Softening to him just a little and then withdrawing as soon as he caught a glimpse of the woman hidden beneath her cautious exterior. She had plenty of reasons to be terrified and very few to trust anybody.

Here he was gradually opening his heart to her like the idiot that he was. Letting her work her way in despite his past hurts. He knew better. Hadn't he learned a thing from his failure with Anna and Janine? Kayla was as unavailable as they came. Damaged. Terrified. And hardened in ways and by things he could only begin to imagine. Yeah, he was a fool. And most likely, if he didn't steel his resolve not to fall for her. He'd pay in spades.



Chapter 28

Keene bowed low as the Shaman finished the purification ceremony. Once more wafting the pungent, fragrant white smoke over his head and shoulders with a feathery plume. Keene was calm and focused. Ready to kick some serious ass. Confidence surged through him. Swirls and designs drawn in multicolored pigments decorated his bare skin. Even in the loincloth and nothing else, he was as connected to his inner warrior as he'd ever been. All traces of doubt erased from his mind. He kept his eyes tightly closed and inhaled the last wisps of pungent smoke into his lungs.

Doc grunted and studied his handiwork. He had transformed Keene into a worthy candidate for the final trial and the man kneeling before him was as ready as he was going to get. "Meditate till your escort arrives," he said with a nod of his head as he waved the white plume over Keene's head one last time for good measure. "May our goddess grant you wisdom. The Great Father grant you strength. And the ancestors grace you with their presence."

Bryce parted the beaded curtain that separated the inner chamber from the smaller confined antechamber and waited until the blessing was over to speak. A chill ran down his spine as he looked into the hard steely gray that lifted to meet his stare. The gaze was that of a warrior's. Keene was focused, ready, agile, and lethal as hell. Bryce was glad he wasn't going into the ring against him. This man meant business, dangerous business. "Kayla is here to see you," he said as he ducked into the hallway to give Keene and Kayla some privacy.

Keene nodded and waved her in. He could see it in her expression that she was here to try to talk him out of fighting. But, she should know that once his mind was made up. It was made up and nothing would change it. He was ready to take his place amongst the brothers or die trying.

Kayla forced a smile to her lips. She wouldn't risk Keene's life by making a scene or doing anything to break his intense concentration. It wouldn't cause anything but trouble. Once he'd made up his mind, there was little anyone could do to change it. Trying to might get him killed. She sucked in a breath, taking in the man who stood before her.

Grey eyes, hard and focused met hers. His hair, stuck out in wayward carroty colored waves. Firm and muscular, his chest was covered with swirling patterns in a rainbow of earthen tones. His legs were long and lean. Powerful thighs, size of tree trunks, flexed as he stood. The tattoo on his right upper arm expanded as he curled and uncurled his fist. Dense patches of darker auburn hair covered his pecs and ran in a trail down his taut abdomen below the loincloth secured around his narrow hips to cover his legs. Kayla had never seen Keene in anything less than his combat fatigues. And she'd never considered that there was a man of flesh and bone beneath them. "Damn, look at you."

"You like it?" Keene asked. Turning in a slow circle, he gave her the full visual tour. Kayla had changed her hairstyle and makeup into a more becoming style. She wore jeans and a soft cotton t-shirt that accentuated her curvaceous figure. Her eyes were bright and intelligent and it was so nice to see her smile twinkling in their depths. "I think we've both changed a lot in the past few days."

Kayla feigned, fanning herself exaggeratedly. Blushing at Keene's appraisal of her new look. He was raw, masculine power and lethal energy. A warrior prepared to go to battle. But, underneath it all, the paint, the bare skin, the loincloth, he was still her protector and her friend. "I think may faint if I remain in the sight of all these muscles much longer."

Keene scoffed and playfully chucked a finger under Kayla's chin. "I think you'll survive." She was so brave. He could smell her worry for him masked beneath her smile. He wished there had been more he could have done to protect her from Roark. His master had done such horrible things to her. And there'd been nothing he could have done that wouldn't have made it worse for the both of them. The woman gave him courage. If she could survive her past as brutal and violent as it had been, so could he.

"So you're going to do it?" Kayla asked. Ducking her chin and looking away, she pretended to study the intricately beaded curtain hanging in the doorway. She promised herself she wouldn't mention the fight. That she would be here for him, to offer her support and nothing else. At the last minute her resolve dwindled and she caved. She had just one question. And he owed her an answer to it. "Why?"

"I have to." Keene grabbed Kayla's shoulders and turned her to face him. "Kayla, if I can stop just one person from suffering the way we have. All of this is worth it. Roark and those like him have to be stopped. The world is a hard place for fragile beings."

"I know." She blinked away her tears and for his sake, refused to let them fall. Keene's hands were warm and solid on her skin, dwarfing her shoulders with their massive expanse. Keene was right. Something had to be done Roark. He had to be stopped, no matter what the cost. But, she found herself wishing that it didn't have to be Keene that was so willing to pay the price for justice. "Just one person."

"Just one," Keene repeated.

Kayla hugged Keene tightly for all she was worth, carefully trying not to smudge the artwork scrolling across his skin. " Please, be careful out there."

"I will. I promise." Keene kissed Kayla softly on the cheek and released her from his arms. She was his friend. Only she knew the depths of his past sins and eagerness to escape them. If only she could have been the one person he'd saved.

Kayla exited the room, closing the door softly behind her, sniffling softly to hold back her tears. "Thank you, Bryce," she said looking up at him with a pleading gaze not to follow her. She needed to be alone. Needed time to think. She wrapped her arms protectively around her chest as she walked through the halls, leaving him standing at the door.

Bryce let Kayla go. Mingling with her scent, her emotions hung heavily in the air like a lingering perfume. Fear. Worry. Deep caring. And most of all, respect for Keene and what it was that he was doing. She finally understood. After the trial was over, Bryce planned to report the outcome to her. He hoped the news he shared would be happy. He dipped his head in greeting as Chance solemnly arrived to escort Keene to his final trial and went to the gym to join the brothers.

Keene bowed to Chance and took a deep breath to steel his resolve. It was time for his long walk to his destiny. He followed the silent, young warrior down the long, winding corridors to the gym. The echoing sound of the warriors' song echoed in the vacant hallways, growing louder as they approached.

Chance had plenty to say, bits of last minute advice, words of encouragement, anything to break the grim silence between them. But, in keeping with tradition, he said nothing and led Keene to the gym. It was an honor to be chosen to lead a man to his final trial. And he'd been shocked when the Great Father chose him to do the job.

Nervousness for Keene rolled in his gut. It hadn't been that long ago since he walked in Keene's footsteps. Not knowing if he would live or die. Terrified of the uncertainty of his destiny. He opened the door and held it wide, waving Keene inside. Sometimes, it was good to break from the old and start new traditions. He gripped Keene by the bicep and nodded in support. A candidate entered the trial on his own. Stood to face it on his own. And fought for the right to be called a brother, alone. Chance could go no further beside Keene. What happened after this point was up to him.

As Keene entered the gym, the chanting stopped. Silenced by the man who stood in the center of a vast congregation of brothers. There were more Sons than Keene was aware of. Some of the faces he recognized. And some, he did not. The brothers parted, making a path for him to join the men who stood waiting for him in the center of the ring.

"Who declares this man worthy to face the trial?" the Prophet asked. He'd come, just as he'd promised he would. His brother was a nervous type and worried far too much. The Great Father didn't feel it was fair to officiate over the affair when he was one of the men going into the ring and he'd asked him to do it in his stead. His brother was going to have to get used to not having him around. And he'd been gone for weeks in hopes of weaning his brother off of him. Hard times were coming for all the brothers. Painful times. And there was nothing anyone or any force on this planet could do to stop the turn of events that had to unfold.

"I do," John Mark replied. Stepping forward he bowed low to the Prophet. "He is worthy."

"Let him prove his worth," the Prophet said, bowing in reply to John Mark. He then bowed to Keene. "Do you accept the challenge?"

Keene returned the gesture and stepped into the ring to face his opponents. He wasn't surprised to see the Great Father standing on the mat. It wouldn't have been a fair fight otherwise. Keene knew he could out maneuver most of the brothers at the compound and they would have searched long and hard to find someone to fight him. Dane stood to the man's left and a woman to his right. A woman?

Keene glanced to John Mark uncertain that he understood. John Mark nodded and raised a brow in response, crossing his big, muscled forearms over his chest daring him to protest. A woman? And the woman was John Mark's mate no less. A string of doubt swept through him. He'd never faced a woman before, not in hand to hand combat. This could very well be a fight to the death. And he would not harm a woman. "I won't do it," he said, lifting his chin to John Mark. "I can't fight a woman."

"You face a warrior, strong, noble, and true. Do you wish to end the contest then and forfeit the right to combat?" John Mark asked. Dane and he had debated for hours over whom to send into the ring to fight Keene. The man had a serious protective streak when it came to females. And they'd chosen well when they asked Robbie to enter the ring. He thought for a minute, Keene might cave and back away from the challenge they'd presented him with.

"No. But..." Keene bit his bottom lip as the doubt encircled him. Kore, was as ruthless as any man, possibly more so. She used her femininity as a weapon. Kore's beauty, curvaceous body, and sleek black hair led many to their deaths before, the innocuous looking redheaded female, facing him with her petite shoulders squared in determination, ended her life. She bore the marks of a warrior on her back, the same as any other Son. And she'd earned them, just as the men had. He couldn't afford to go easy on her. Not when his life was on the line. He had to look past her curves and tiny feminine stature to the dangerous warrior beneath. In her, the brothers had chosen his weakest point, his reluctance to harm a female. "I accept."

"Then prepare yourself."

Keene shook off his doubt and studied the way his adversaries moved. Lashing out, he chose Dane first. John Mark claimed Dane trained him. And Keene had ample opportunities to study John Mark's every move during their sessions in the gym. He started with a series of blinding kicks and punches. Grinding his teeth against the blows as they were returned with equal speed and accuracy, finding their mark with brutal force each and every time. Grunting through the pain, he continued, delivering and receiving punishment, flesh meeting flesh in equal measure. Obviously, he'd underestimated Dane either that or the man had not shown John Mark everything he knew. Dane was lethal and fast, relentless in his assault and counter blows.

Landing a bone-crunching blow to his right ribcage, Dane stumbled, dropping to his knees. Keene gave the man no reprieve, showed no mercy as he took advantage of Dane's weakness and continued. Delivering kicks and blows to the damage he'd already done. Keene fought like a rogue. He knew no other way. After a breathtaking assault, Dane's hand waved in the air, signaling his defeat and withdrawal from the contest.

Keene wasted no time, jumping on the Great Father. He did better in stressful situations and taking on the legend, a highly trained and experienced warrior was definitely a challenge. The Great Father countered Keene's every move. The man seemed to know where each punch would land and managed to deflect it with grace and lightening fast agility. He drove Keene back into a defensive crouch. Pushing the feral beast inside of him to the end of its tether. Keene knew if he lost his wits, the trials would end and most likely so would his life.

Defending against his attack. Keene hissed out a breath as a heel connected with his low back, after sending a tooth chattering blow to his mid sternum. He quickly recovered, biting his way through the pain. The Great Father knew Keene's strategy and street fighter techniques. But Keene, no stranger to the martial arts and had spent over a century perfecting the moves. He surprised the Great Father with a highly disciplined, strictly textbook onslaught, sending the Great Father sprawling onto the mat.

Keene rammed an elbow into the most fragile point on a vampire, the seventh rib. The Great Father took the blow like a man, scrambling to recover. But, each time he tried to regain his footing, Keene was there, kicking and punching like a madman, delivering punishing blow after punishing blow in rogue style. The rogues didn't stop because a man was down. They kept on piling on the punishment until the threat was eliminated.

Not embarrassed by failing, but proud to be a part of bringing this vampire, this honorable man into the fold, the Great Father raised his hand in defeat and bowed, limping off the mat to join his brother on the sidelines. There was a grimness to his brother's expression. A sadness reflected in his dark eyes. But, the Great Father was too engrossed in the fight to fully consider the future his brother knew, but never spoke of.

Robbie studied Keene's tactics as he fought Dane and the Great Father. He was like a Mack truck and seemed unstoppable. He dove into Dane at full speed, like a bull on a rampage. He fought the Great Father with grace and skill. But, she had two things she could use against him, his underestimation of her because of her size, and his reluctance to fight her because of her sex. If he came at her head on, she wouldn't last a minute against him. But, if she could keep him dancing and chasing her around the ring, she might wear him down gradually, bit by bit.

Ok, so she was a little crazy for being insane enough to get into the ring with a man pumped for battle that was easily three times her size to begin with. Damn it John Mark promised her a long honeymoon, if she agreed. And so, with her suitcases packed and visions of moonlit beaches in her head, she bowed to face Keene.

Keene was pumped, fueled by pure adrenaline. His fangs were fully extended and ready to find purchase in flesh. The sweet scent of blood flowing from the wounds he'd pounded into his opponents stirred the beast within him. With a roar, he turned to Robbie. Studying her, struggling to rein in his beast and defy the logic of seeing past her pretty face and petite build, to the threat that lay beneath her adorable female exterior. Hissing, he unleashed his worst, charging with a roar of male aggression.

Robbie twisted, narrowly missing Keene's massive sweeping arm. Leaping high into the air and landing lightly on her feet behind him. She planted the sole of her foot into the small of his back. Her eardrums vibrated as he shouted in rage, spinning to face her. She rolled on the mat, avoiding the hulking man who charged at her like a bull on a rampage. John Mark promised her Florida. Bullshit! She wanted a week in Cancun for this. She rolled out of the way just in time, before one of his massive fists collided with her cheekbone.

Keene poured on the speed, growing weary of chasing the tiny female in circles. She was trying to wear him down, exhaust him, and then move in for the kill. Most of his opponents didn't live long enough to play cat and mouse. And he was done with the game. Robbie moved so quickly and so gracefully that she appeared to be floating on the air. He lunged forward, dropping her with a right hook and sending her toppling to the mat.